A Brief Flame of Anger
by Evgeniya
Summary: Talbot feels ignored and unintentionally seeks attention from the one vampire who matters. Season 3. Warning: discipline of an adult male vampire.


**Author's Note:** Well, I've been having a lot of bad luck recently, but since my computer broke down I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to work in safe mode and find old snippets I wrote and try to connect them into a story. That explains the rambling. And I say rambling because I prefer spanking to come at the end of the story and this somehow managed to come in the middle. :)

I tried to remember why I originally wrote some scenes. It's been awhile since I've seen Season 3, but I recall trying to find lines that Bill exchanged with Talbot for another story. I don't think there were any. I think Russell, Franklin, and Eric were the only ones who actually spoke to him.

* * *

**A BRIEF FLAME**

by Evgeniya

Bill stepped out of the guest bathroom. Draped around him was a robe that had obviously been selected to coordinate with the room's décor. Its ornate patterns matched the woven coverlets and upholstery perfectly. As Bill adjusted the shawl collar and turn back cuffs, he realized he must have resembled an eccentric tapestry reminiscent of old world bazaars. He certainly felt trapped in one. And while it was robe of regal elegance reserved for a very important guest, Bill was not happy with the host standing before him.

Talbot had the finest European style, which he was clearly admiring as Bill stood before him in the robe he chose. Gently clasped in his hand was a suit which was no doubt another offering of his ill hospitality.

"How do you like the robe, Bill?" Talbot asked softly. Then he added with a sweet smile, "Had it monogrammed specially for you."

Bill tightened his jaw. He had scoffed at the embroidered initials when he first put on the robe. The Mississippi kingdom had a distorted view of generosity, none of which could soften the blow of his confinement. And since Talbot couldn't offer him anything more than extra guest towels, Bill saw no reason to exchange pleasantries.

"Consider it a gift," Talbot continued. "You can take it with you should you_ ever_ leave."

The soft tone was lightly accented with his Greek inflection, but Bill did not miss the taunt. If it were the king, he would have offered his own contribution to the ambiguous tête-à-tête as they both danced around each other's questions and accusations.

Talbot simply sighed when his jeer wasn't matched with even a slight nod. He did think himself worthy of some type of response since he was offering gifts. Nevertheless, he held out the vinyl carrier and slowly unzipped it to present the new suit.

"I took the liberty of guessing your size," he explained as his eyes trailed down Bill's body. The Louisianan vampire stiffened his stance, but he had nowhere to retreat, much to Talbot's delight. "I decided on a single breasted suit with a contemporary look. I figured it emphasizes a youthful image. Perfect for a vampire who's— how old are you again? Just shy 200?"

Talbot waited politely for an answer even though he knew he would not receive one. "No matter," he dismissed then admired Bill in the robe once more. "It looks best on a slender man."

Talbot laid the suit down on the bed and smoothed the plastic away. "Try it on," he suggested graciously, but Bill narrowed his eyes and darted them between Talbot and the suit. It appeared that privacy was not an option.

"Would you rather I turned around?" Talbot asked, which was more privacy than he had ever offered to a houseguest. He slowly twisted his back to Bill, but almost retreated back a step when he saw Russell standing in the doorway.

A small smile flickered across the king's thin lips before he pushed his way between the two vampires. "Oh, Talbot," he drawled out slowly. "Leave the poor boy alone. Mr. Compton doesn't want to play dress up."

Talbot pursed his lips at the condescending tone. Then he raised both eyebrows when Russell dismissed him with a wave.

"Thank you, sir" Bill finally acknowledged firmly to Russell.

What Talbot resented more than the boorish fashion of being shooed away with a simple wave was that Bill finally spoke three words and none of them were directed towards him.

"Have it your way," Talbot commented as he gathered the suit from the bed and decided that anyone who didn't appreciate his company wasn't worthy of it anyways.

**¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)**

After being sent away, the royal consort seated himself on the couch downstairs. Since his services were no longer needed, Talbot was now dressed in his sleep attire. A royally tailored robe of silk gave him an air of great distinction, which he proudly displayed with his head held high. He kept his eyes on the tiled ceiling, fully succumbed to his own thoughts.

It did not go past his notice that Bill Compton's guestroom was right above him. A vampire with no appreciation for the arts, décor, or good manners was staying upstairs. Even pampered with the best hospitality, Bill wouldn't even utter a single word to him. He'd manage to grind out a sarcastic reply to Russell, but he offered Talbot nothing in ways of conversation and Talbot did deserve some respect for being the royal consort.

Talbot continued to stare at the ceiling while he played mindlessly with the belt on his robe. The satiny, lush weave of silk did have a luxurious brush against his fingertips. For the time being, he was content with his own thoughts, but from the corner of his eye he noticed one of the guards shifting.

It was such an effortless gesture. The guard simply crossed his arms against his chest as he stood in perfect pose with another guard at the doorway. It was a simple action that deserved no notice, but Talbot was hunting for a distraction from his own thoughts.

"Come here," Talbot ordered firmly, since he had no interest in leaving the deep-seated comfort of the sofa.

Immediately, the guard stood before him, ready to receive further orders.

Talbot smiled at his obedience. It was nice to have guards present because that meant there was always someone around to show him some respect when he needed it the most. Talbot then pointed at the other guard that stood watch at the door and instructed, "Attack him."

The guard glanced briefly over his shoulder, but he soon returned to Talbot with a shake of his head. He didn't even have the common decency to say _no_ aloud.

Talbot stood up immediately; his robe draping around his body with a rich sheen. The luster of the silk had a timeless attraction, but the gleam in Talbot's eyes was one of foreboding fury.

"You dare refuse the demands of the royal consort?" Talbot huffed. He could make excuses for Bill's distance, but paid servants were just that. Paid to _serve_ him.

"Sir, the king did not order—"

Talbot interrupted him with a heavy groan. "The king is not the only one you take orders from!" he hissed. Then to prove his point, Talbot walked over to the other guard waiting by the doorway.

"Kill him," he said plainly. This guard was more obedient. His only flaw was a brief moment of hesitation, but he quickly swept towards the other guard with his fangs flying forth.

Talbot admired the fight with a satisfied gaze. Russell had picked his guards well. They were exceptionally trained warriors intent on going in for a quick kill instead of a sloppy battle. Talbot only had to jump back once to stay clear from the blood splatter.

Once it was over, Talbot stood over the pile of guts and blood. He nodded approvingly at the guard. It was the exact guard he wanted to triumph. Not the insolent fool who thought it was perfectly fine to refuse an order.

"What's your name?" Talbot asked politely. It was a name he planned to remember to keep that guard in his favor. The one who was immediate in his fealty and subservience.

"Jón," the guard answered agitatedly.

"Jón," Talbot hummed gently. "Well, I am impressed. Now…" His eyes glanced back down at the sticky mess. "…clean it up."

"No."

Talbot raised an eyebrow and instantly decided to forget his name. "Excuse me?"

"Custodial duties are not in my repertoire."

Talbot had to pause for a moment. Let the rush of anger fill his veins before he thought of a proper reprimand. But before he was completely overcome by anger, he was harshly pulled aside.

Talbot snapped around to see Russell standing beside him. His robe did have an irresistible silk feel, so he could forgive Russell for latching so tightly onto his upper arm.

"There is a reason we have at least two guards standing watch at every entrance," the king murmured in a very soft, very dangerous tone. "I cannot have you disrupting procedure and compromising your safety."

Talbot pressed his chin against his chest so he could stare down at Russell. Aside from the tight hold around his arm and the threatening glare from his king, his safety was not jeopardized. Therefore, he could use the guards to his satisfaction, whatever that may be.

The grip on his arm tightened, but Bill entered shortly and unexpectedly. He was now fully dressed and accompanied by two guards. Russell's hold loosened and Talbot was able to shake him off. He watched the king's eyes hop between he and Bill; trying to figure out just who to sort out first.

"Go. Be with Bill," Talbot dared with brutal civility. "I'm handling this."

Russell tilted his head grimly at that last remark. There was an implacable hardness to his eyes. A silent, but fierce demand for obedience. He and Talbot shared that same stare until he was sure his consort understood the warning.

Talbot did recognize the warning. He just wasn't pleased about it, which was evident in his eyes. But his heated stare eventually relented under the silent reprimand, so Russell turned to Bill with a formal inclination of his head and led him away.

Talbot watched them leave while smoothing down his rumpled robe. He was mostly thankful that Russell kept up his refined façade in front of their captive, but his deadly glare could be just as haunting. So, Talbot walked back over to the guard stiffly and pointed to the mess on the floor. "If that stain sets, the king will not be pleased."

"The king? Or you?"

Talbot responded with a curt nod. That was a fair assessment he could overlook for now since he was last remaining guard in the room and Russell interrupted their fun. Talbot recognized the king's warning, so this guard was safe. Of course, his impudent manner was not to be tolerated. Talbot may not have been king, but he did have some power and he intended to abuse what power he did have to deal with disrespectful staff. And while Talbot hated how the werewolves roamed in and out of his home, he was quite glad that one chose now to enter.

Even though he outwardly appeared human, werewolves could never fully hide beneath their slobber and stupidity. Talbot snapped to get the wolf's attention, since he would never tap such a filthy creature on the shoulder. The werewolf knitted his eyebrows in confusion because the royal consort usually displayed very little interest in wolves, but he stomped clumsily over to the vampires nevertheless.

Talbot smiled at the werewolf's swiftness. Quick, like a dog, to obey his master's command. Werewolves may have been unreliable beasts, but they at least tried to please for as long as their attention span lasted. So he was quick to give into Talbot's order to attack the impudent guard.

The fight didn't last long. The werewolf didn't even have time to transform before the guard snapped his neck with an effortless motion. No opportunity for a small murmur of protest. His body just fell limply to the floor. However, it was a clean kill. No sputtered curses thick with blood. It was a kill Talbot could appreciate.

Talbot was actually about to commend the guard's tidy tactic, but his mouth closed shut when he heard the king's booted feet against the marble flooring. No one was more skilled at battle or stealth than Russell, so these were deliberate steps meant to catch his lover's attention.

"I marvel at your restraint," the king said with grim slowness as he stood over the body. "Is this how you _handle_ things?"

Talbot shrugged with disinterest. He was insulted by the hiss in the king's tone, so he simply would not acknowledge it. If Russell wanted to take things out of context, then he wasn't going to be the one to fill him in.

"Is there _nothing constructive_ you can do with your time?" the king scolded with deceptive calm.

Talbot turned towards Russell. His expression was very close to mutinous. With the cooking and the cleaning and the supervising of the staff, he was not about to defend his role in the household. Terminating disrespectful members of the staff was a contribution in itself, and one that he currently took pride in.

Russell recognized the habitual manner of his silent stare. Talbot cornered was a dangerous chore to overcome and usually require swift action. The Greek vampire may have felt ignored at times and quick to voice that fact, but Russell would always have time to ensure that Talbot was watched over and protected.

"Leave us," Russell commanded to the guard plainly before he turned to the younger vampire.

"I trust these guards with your safety," he growled. Then he added with annoyance, "Once more, I told you to knock it off!"

"I had every intention to!" Talbot snapped back. And in his mind, he had. Only one guard had fallen. Werewolves were expendable and didn't count.

"Yes," Russell said slowly as he studied Talbot with his usual inscrutable expression. "I can see your intention in your eyes."

Talbot was not sure what he meant by that, but he narrowed his eyes when Russell took his hand. The king had been known to pat or kiss his hand to finish an argument, but this hold was firm and tight and their argument had barely begun.

"Russell?" Talbot asked uneasily as the king pulled him towards the couch. "What are you doing?"

"I know a quick way to get you out of this mood," he grumbled as he sat down on the couch and swiftly pulled Talbot over his lap.

"Russell, this is uncalled for!" Talbot sputtered quickly as he tried to push himself away. Despite his struggles, the king was able to stretch him across the couch and over his lap. Talbot tried to push himself up by the knees, but Russell pinned him down with an arm wrapped tight around his waist. Not a single effort could break free from that 3000 year old hold. Having no choice but to settle into that horrible position, Talbot cringed into his folded arms.

Soon enough, Talbot felt the first swat of Russell's hand on the seat of his backside. It sent an immediate sting through his pajama bottoms and he shrunk into the couch cushions, completely humiliated that he acted out enough to be punished. There was a time and a place to pester Russell as his lover, but ultimately he never wanted to face disapproval from his maker.

"Russell, please," Talbot tried to defend firmly, but there was an understandable tremor in his voice as the swats continued to fall. "It was nothing!"

"_Nothing_?" Russell repeated. He grabbed the waistband of Talbot's pajamas and pulled them down to his knees. Talbot blushed at first; his bare backside now vulnerable to the onslaught of Russell's displeasure. And Talbot knew that once the king was irritated, his displeasure could be immeasurable.

Russell's calloused hand slapped sharply onto the center of the exposed skin, filling the room with a horrible thwacking noise. The sound was almost as dreadful as the searing pain it left behind and it nearly drowned out Talbot's frantic little gasps and shouts.

"I meant nothing by it!" Talbot shrieked and arched. The awful act of his lover pulling down his pants for a spanking restored his struggles. He gripped Russell's thigh and tried to push himself away from the torment. He grunted and whimpered when that didn't work. He merely settled on pressing his face against the couch cushion to hide his embarrassingly blushing cheeks.

"It is wrong of you to interfere!" Talbot argued with shameless appeal. It wasn't fair that Russell had Bill to occupy his time and Talbot had only the guards. They were worthless. And while Russell was away, he had every right to see to it that the guards were taken care of in whatever way that required.

"_Interfere_? No, no, no," Russell corrected in his usual condescending tone. "I have every right when my child and lover fools with his own safety." Russell had been spanking with keen attentiveness, but he paused to gently pat the defiant backside turned across his knees. Such a gentle gesture made Talbot shiver, but Talbot was his in every way imaginable and nothing could take that away from him. He had every intention to keep him safe and sheltered and guarded.

"I have no need for guards," the king continued. "I employ them for you. Paid in advance, I might add. There is nothing more valuable in this world than you. You are the one thing I could never replace, or want to replace."

A sob, then a gasp, caught in Talbot's throat when Russell patted his backside again. It definitely stung against his sore skin, but it was a gentle touch reserved only for him. Russell never showed tenderness to anyone else. Disobeying his maker was not an attempt to test his resolve or challenge his authority. At least not intentionally, but he was seeking some type of reassurance and Russell could always remind him of his worth.

Talbot was the softening influence over Russell, so he knew his king was always devoted and sincere with him. Gentle, caring touches seemed sparse these nights but they always came when he needed them most.

"V-valuable?" Talbot stammered. He never abandoned the haughty prince attitude from his human days, but sharing his home with a king sometimes left him feeling underappreciated. Vampires jumped through hoops to please a king, but gave no notice to a royal consort.

The gentle caresses eventually stopped and Talbot jumped immediately when Russell resumed the spanking. While Talbot did regain his sense of worthiness, he still had to answer for his disobedience and he hated admitting any and all misconduct. He tried to explode with enough force to break away from the fierce sting, but he was locked in place across his maker's thighs.

"These guards are here to protect you, Talbot, not entertain you," Russell reminded as he landed continuous scalding strikes to his consort's squirming backside.

Talbot had already worn himself out, but Russell's strength never faltered. So the younger vampire shouted his grief into the cushion. Like any vampire, he did not want to disappoint his maker, so he tried again to defend himself. "It was just one guard and a fucking werewolf!"

Russell was not satisfied with that response, which Talbot sensed immediately as the fierce sting spread quickly across his backside. He jumped and shrieked when Russell's hand aimed lower, now warming the tops of thighs. It was a warmth that his cold, dead body could do without, but since Talbot now knew he struggles were useless, he merely strove to choke out sentences through his tightened throat.

"I'll c-clean up the messsss," he promised desperately.

"That's what baffles me," Russell said as he paused for a moment. "The slightest ding in the furniture gets you riled up. And here you are causing destruction in our own home." Russell sighed. "What is it? What's bothering you?"

Instead of answering, Talbot whimpered into the crook of his arm. He shook his head frantically rather than offering the slightest hint. It was, after all, a brief moment of insecurity. It wasn't worth mentioning. And the guards were just as much his to toy with, but he cringed knowing that Russell wouldn't agree with that reasoning.

Russell reached across the couch and removed one of Talbot's slippers. He brought it down hard against the under curve of Talbot's backside, intensifying the searing pain in his bottom. Talbot arched his back immediately and an undignified kick of his leg sent his other slipper flying across the room.

"Russell, nooooooooo!" Talbot yelped as the fierce sting struck again. "Please! I'm sorry! I won't mess with the guards again!"

Russell hesitated as he held the slipper high in the air. It wasn't an answer to his question, but he had put a stop to his consort's mischief, which was the main concern, and he knew Talbot would be willing to reveal more once he settled. So, Russell decided to place the slipper aside and simply lay his hand on Talbot's heated backside. He gently patted the skin, noting how red the slipper made it with only two swats.

He kept Talbot over his knees, letting him shudder and whimper across his thighs. His sobs were dying down, but his shoulders continued to tremble. His backside still throbbed fiercely, but at least now he was given a chance to finally heal.

Talbot sunk into the couch cushions. He hated it most of all when Russell kept him in that disgraceful position. He felt horribly childish just lying there across his maker's lap with his pants down around his knees. But he also blushed into his arms, knowing that there was some solace in that position. While he would hardly admit it, he found comfort in that secured embrace. Protected, yet vulnerable, and receiving complete attention from the only person who mattered.

Fortunately and regrettably, he did not have to suffer in that position much longer. When Talbot felt Russell raise his hand, he eagerly lifted his hips to let Russell tug his pajama bottoms back into place. The cool, light silk was now harsh against his well-spanked bottom, but he was at least finally able to push himself off Russell's lap. He settled onto his knees on the couch, careful not to rest his stinging backside on his heels.

"The guards are here to protect you, darling," Russell whispered purposely. "You may think nothing of it, but it eases my mind to know you're safe when I'm not around."

Talbot simply nodded as he knelt there on the couch, feeling sufficiently chastised, yet very reassured. It wasn't the death of a guard that upset Russell, but the absence of that guard's role. They were there to protect Talbot and nothing else. It was an anger Talbot could admire, and one of the brief occasions when he felt ashamed to question Russell's authority. It was, after all, a role he wanted Russell to continuously rise up to. He could always depend on his king to make him feel cherished. Protection of the royal consort was not one to be taken lightly. Guards were there for protection, not for amusement.

A red tear raced down Talbot's softly blushing cheeks. Russell saw it and noted the still quivering chin. He ran a hand through Talbot's hair then pulled his head down against his shoulder.

Talbot quickly welcomed the embrace and tightly wrapped his arms around his king as he sought out the solid comfort that only a maker could give his child. Now that Russell rubbed his back, Talbot was finally able to release the last of the whimpers he was holding onto. He shuddered against his king and fought back his squirming when Russell whispered something terribly reassuring against his ear. He knew he should feel embarrassed by such attention, but he wanted to soak it all up while they were still alone and Russell was forthcoming. So, he fastened himself tight against Russell to feel the full force of his worth.

"I'll always protect you," Russell promised as he pulled far enough away to tap his disheveled lover's cheek. "But the guards have their purpose, too. Remember that."

Talbot winced when Russell patted his backside again. It didn't exactly hurt now that the sting along his backside and thighs had died down, but it served its purpose as a frighteningly gentle reminder.

Russell did enjoy these moments. It had been centuries since Byzantium, but Talbot was still the same prince he once was. The brief moments after a spanking, his consort was endearingly shy and sincere. It was an honesty that only a maker could provoke from another vampire and one of the few times he could say _I love you_ without an eye roll and being dismissed as a _liar_.

Talbot nuzzled against Russell's neck with a final whimper then he pulled away with an awkward shrug. After being across his maker's lap, he would need another moment to collect his grace. So, he settled back onto his knees on the couch as Russell stood up and collected his slippers from the floor.

Russell handed the slippers back to Talbot, who hugged them closely to his chest with a sniffle. It gave him something to do with his hands instead of giving into the childish urge to reach behind him and rub out the sting.

"If you're really that bored, you can always entertain Mr. Compton with a game of cards," Russell suggested. "He is a guest in our home. We should do everything to make him feel welcome."

Talbot merely grunted then lowered his eyes to the floor in a heated stare. Russell had unconsciously reminded him of what he wanted to forget.

"What?"

"He doesn't make a single effort," Talbot murmured heatedly. "I've done all I can to make him feel welcomed and he offers me no more than a clenched jaw."

"Well," Russell shrugged slightly. "William is a man of few words."

"No!" Talbot corrected with a hiss. "He hasn't said a _single_ word to me. He barely makes eye contact when I speak. Have you not noticed?"

"Aaahhh," Russell rasped slowly and sat back beside Talbot on the couch. He squeezed his lover's shoulder reassuringly now that he knew the root of the problem. This was tender moment between maker and child and he interrupted with thoughts of Bill and his obligation as king. "I knew this wasn't about boredom. Feeling a bit ignored, are we?"

"Insulted is the word."

"That really wasn't a reason to kill the guard." Russell jumped at the opportunity to reinforce his point. "They are here for your protection."

"_He_ was disrespectful." Talbot's lips tensed back to reveal his teeth, but he managed to suppressed the deadly points. It was a manner of misdirected anger, but there only so much impertinence the royal consort could endure. Unfortunately, Bill was safe for as long as Russell needed him.

"Well," Russell sighed as he glanced back at the puddle of blood on the floor. "You saw to it that it won't happen again."

Russell studied the mess a moment longer. The hot and stringy muddle still bubbled and fizzed on the floor. Russell's eyes eventually found their way to the opposite wall of the room, where the portrait of him and Talbot hung. The painting was a showcase of elegance and majesty – the exact way Talbot wanted them to be portrayed. Russell continued to absentmindedly squeeze Talbot's shoulder, filling his mind with his own mediations. Talbot was everything and no one diminishes the value of his royal consort.

"I am sad to say that William hasn't embraced our hospitality as well as I had hoped," he finally said in his customary slow drawl.

Talbot rolled his eyes at the blatant observation and knew immediately he would be trapped on that couch once Russell lost himself in his silent thoughts. Not liking the insecurity that immediately followed after a spanking, he simply announced, "I need to rest." He hugged his slippers tighter to this chest, hoping Russell would recognize the hint and grant him permission to leave, since he wasn't quite sure if he was out of the doghouse just yet.

Russell took in his lover's pathetic form on the couch. His face was still flushed and his hair was an adorable mess. Talbot would be appalled by his own appearance if he were aware of it, no matter how charming it was, so Russell reached out and patted his cheek. Then answered gently, "Aww, of course, dear." Then he stood up and reached for his partner.

"Let's wash your face," he said as he pulled Talbot up by the hand and kissed his knuckles. "Then we'll put Bill to bed."

Talbot cringed and then yanked his hand away from Russell. "Please," he huffed, suddenly feeling like his himself again. "I want to be alone to nurse my wounded pride. Bill doesn't deserve anymore generosity from me."

Russell smoothed back Talbot's hair and admired the delicate features hidden beneath the dried tears. Talbot wanted the attention, so he let Russell simply admire him.

"Maybe so," Russell agreed. "It appears that Mr. Compton has mastered the subtle art of being bad-mannered. Let's not sink to his level."

Of course, that sounded more like a challenge than a request. It was one that Talbot would certainly rise to because he always tried to remain poised in front of guests. Show Bill exactly how a proper vampire should act.

Talbot hated most of the visitors Russell welcomed into their home. Unfortunately, the king had managed to assure him that Bill would be exceptional company. Talbot suspected that Lorena would have been the aggravating guest, but she was surprisingly thoughtful when it came to praising dinner and the guestroom. She brimmed with incivility, but she knew how to play her role in the Edgington mansion. She even admired the stenciled trim on the wall, even if she wasn't entirely sincere. In fact, she compared their home to a Tuscan villa, which was enough to appease Talbot. Bill, on the other hand, refused to accept his role. He barely cocked an eyebrow at his freshly furnished room. Luckily, Bill would be forever surrounded in the timeworn furnishings that Talbot handpicked. The Greek vampire found some satisfaction in that.

"Fine," Talbot agreed reluctantly. While others may not have thought he deserved as much respect as Russell, there were still responsibility he had with being the royal consort. "Let's wish Bill the best and be done with it."

Russell smiled gently at Talbot as he continued to rub the back of his neck. "See? There's the kindhearted man I fell in love with."

**¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)**

Bill remained secured in his room. While furnished with the best classic European design, it offered little in ways of entertainment. He never learned to appreciate the exotic textiles or the jewel tones of Eastern Europe. Unlike his hosts, Bill was not grateful for an artisan's touch. He would simply have to amused himself with his own thoughts and prepare his conversations ahead of time. He knew what Russell wanted and he would need the correct words to dodge around his questions.

There was no knock at the door. It was only the soft scrape of the silver door against the carpet that alerted Bill that someone had entered. He groaned inwardly, but turned around to address his hosts.

"Mr. Compton," Russell greeted as he entered the guestroom with Talbot at his side. "I am so glad we caught you before you settled in for the night." His eyes trailed around the room, pleased that Bill found no way to fulfill his time. "We would have felt awful if you went to bed before we said our goodnights."

Bill turned his body away from the conversation. Even though his response sounded refined, it was still gritted tightly between his teeth. "That is a transgression I would have certainly overlooked for one night."

Russell acknowledged him with a polite nod, but then he caught sight of the blisters inside his palms. He admired and chuckled at the fresh, red sores. "Oh, I nearly forgot about the guest bathroom," he said innocently enough. "The faucets _were_ gold-plated, but we were so excited about your presence here that we accidentally polished it all away. It, unfortunately, left nothing but the silver underneath."

Talbot smiled sweetly at Russell; appreciating his loquacious efforts. Understanding that it was his cue, he turned towards Bill. "Nerves," he shrugged. "Can you forgive us, Bill?"

Bill didn't respond. He was too enthralled with the windowless walls, but he made the effort to clench his jaw. Talbot raised an eyebrow at Russell and the king exchanged the same look. He then offered Talbot a slight nod to assure him that he did indeed notice that Bill never returned his gaze. Nowadays, Talbot's temper was hotter and his sulkiness more frequent. Obviously, it could be provoked by the vaguest of ways.

"You really have been a proper guest," Russell praised nonetheless. "You haven't even rang your bell once."

"Oh," Talbot interrupted quietly, but quickly. "I forgot." Then he bit his lip in childlike innocence. "That bell is made from sterling silver. I hoped that hasn't been a deterrence, Bill."

Bill released a frustrated sigh. Ignoring Talbot altogether, he offered Russell a sideways glance and muttered, "It's fine."

Talbot narrowed his eyes at Bill's back and crossed his arms tightly against his chest. Even his subtle show of insult and prods couldn't raise eye contact from Bill. Unfortunately, subtlety was his only recourse because Bill had information his king wanted.

Russell could already sense his child's agitation, so he examined Bill's body language. At least he had the self-restraining respect to clench his fists, even though it must have hurt with his blistered palms.

"Fine," Russell grumbled at last. At least it would spare Talbot from anymore frustration. "We won't keep you. We just wanted to wish you a pleasant day's rest. Sleep well."

"Yes," Talbot agreed stiffly, but not forgetting his manners. "Until tomorrow night, Bill"

Russell placed his hand on the small of Talbot's back to gently let themselves out. Talbot looked over his shoulder and added, "You really should have taken the suit." He was only thinking of Bill after all. "It was stain resistant in case you were in need of a snack."

Talbot left him with that final thought. Let Bill know that he took his presence into consideration and his messy need to feed from a human directly. They always kept humans available for that. Once in the hallway, the door was shut tight. Russell's hand moved from Talbot's back to his arm where he slowly began to rub.

"You go on ahead. I'll only be a moment longer," Russell whispered reassuringly. "I still have a little more paperwork to go over."

Talbot flashed him a look of warning. He did take pride in Russell's needs, but considering the current situation, he would only answer to them as long as it was necessary.

"I won't get the bleeds," the king assured with a growl. "I don't need more than a few minutes."

Talbot's eyes lingered with a disbelieving gaze. When Russell did get the bleeds, he would settle for no one else to fuss over him. The king was his just as much his as he was Russell's, but he made his way down the hallway nonetheless. Russell watched him walk away then returned to Bill's room once he was out of sight.

Bill had taken his usual stiff posture, even though he had not expected the king to return so soon. Russell approached him with harsh steps that were only softened by the plush Turkish rug.

"I understand that Louisiana may have lost some of its sensibility and decorum under Sophie Anne," the king uttered slowly. "But in the kingdom of Mississippi, we do value good manners. And as long as you are welcomed in my court, you will treat the royal consort with as much respect as you do myself."

Bill was still silent. He only matched him with eyes that were suspicious and heated, since this was a surprise confrontation.

"Tomorrow night will be different," the king ordered. "You will offer Talbot a game of cards and you will look him in the eye. You will smile and be courteous just as if I am in the room. Do you understand, Mr. Compton?"

Bill uncrossed his arms – the only sign to Russell that he was paying any attention. Bill wanted more of an explanation, but he wasn't interested in the affairs of Russell and his consort anyways. As long as he was trapped there, he decided he could give into a simple demand. It was a chore worth doing if it spared him from the king's wrath and avoided other questions. "As you wish."

Russell crossed his arms then tapped his own elbow in amusement. "I don't blame you if find this all too overwhelming," he drawled out slowly. "But don't worry. You'll have plenty of time to familiarize yourself with Mississippi customs."

Russell studied Bill a moment longer, before he turned around and made his way into the hallway.

**¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)**

The next night at dinner, Talbot sat silently at the table. He wondered why he even bothered to brew a batch of blood, infused with cinnamon and cloves, for a delicious spicy meal. Bill would never commend the dinner and Russell always excused him whenever they talked business. Talbot felt he was merely there as a power accessory. He was all too aware of strength in numbers and maintaining appearances.

"It seems to be getting late," Russell announced suddenly after the final course had been served. "I think it's best if we all retire for the night." He then cleared his throat and stared expectantly at Bill.

Bill cracked his neck and then straightened his tie. To his credit, it was a tie that Talbot had selected and laid out for him. Bill then responded tensely, "It's still early yet. I believe we have time for one round of cards, if you'll join me?"

"Oh, that's a marvelous idea," Russell praised. "Unfortunately, I have some paperwork to attend to, so I must take a rain check."

Bill acknowledged him with a stiff nod then he turned towards the royal consort. "And you, Talbot?"

Talbot looked up from beneath his lashes. He hadn't been following the conversation, so he couldn't quite be certain that he heard his name. He wasn't even sure he could recognize it through a Louisianan accent. "…what?"

"Would you care to join me for a game of cards?"

Talbot studied Bill for a moment then he turned towards his king. Both were smiling, but it seemed that Russell was awaiting his response a little too eagerly.

"I don't believe this!" Talbot spat as he jumped up from the table and threw his napkin onto his plate. He turned to Russell and hissed, "Would you care to know what's worse than being ignored, Russell? Twisting someone's arm just to get them to spend time with me!"

Talbot unsheathed his fangs with unrestrained fury. The royal consort was always so composed and poised. Therefore, Bill looked towards Russell to gauge his reaction, since he himself didn't know how to respond to the situation. The king's face was torn between surprise and abhorrence, so it appeared to Bill that even Russell didn't expect Talbot to expose his fangs.

"It's so easy to forget the person that made your dinner or prepared your room," Talbot continued to admonish as his eyes traveled from Russell to Bill. "But instead of offering your company freely, it takes a 3000 year old vampire with a stake to your heart for you to display any sense of gratitude!"

Talbot immediately recognized what his outburst must have sounded like, so he placed a hand on his forehead to calm himself. Unfortunately, his fangs were not satisfied by the small gesture and remained in place.

"_Join you_?" Talbot repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I think not! You both can clear the table yourselves! Good night!"

Russell and Bill both watched in silence as Talbot stormed out of the room. He was murmuring _idiots_ underneath his breath in Greek and continued to do so as he made his way to the second floor.

Once the rambling died down, Russell turned towards Bill. "Well, it seems the gods are smiling down on you," he sighed. "You're safe for tonight, but don't think you're going to get off so easily tomorrow."

Bill didn't acknowledge him with a response, so the king considered him once more. "I think it was your smile that oversold it."

"There's no doubt about that," Bill agreed quickly this time. "But I shall retire alone to the elegant room you have so generously leant me. And you shall spend the night beside an angry lover."

Russell dismissed his observation with a small laugh. "Oh, William," he patronized. "The flame of anger, while bright and brief, sharpens the barb of love."

Of course, Talbot's outburst returned on the second floor. It was muffled through the ceiling, but still quite evident. As Russell continued to listen to the heated words resonating from the upstairs, he realized that reciting eighteenth century poetry was not a suitable retort. And from the look on Bill's face, it seemed that he knew it, too. So Russell growled and snapped back towards the guards, "Get him out of here!"

The guards quickly dragged Bill away, but he still had a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Russell grimaced as he listened to the Greek curses that rock the ceiling. Kind words or whispered praises may not get him out of this. And since Bill's sense of elusiveness suddenly chose to escape him, Russell deserved to be chewed out for this one. It was going to be a long night.

THE END.


End file.
